11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.Yes, yes, and no. It's not black lace that's the issue. Are you kidding me? In my size, I'll take what I can get. When you are a 30D+, the usually suspects are black and nude. Shock me, shock me. How glamorous.

12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.Well....I did buy myself a 4" featherbed right before Mr. Wookie left for the boat. I don't know if he was miffed at the timing or not, but seriously...sleeping alone for months with him or a dog is torture. Gimme some dead avian feathers to sleep on, at least. Oh, and let's not discredit the 20% off coupon code I used. Just because it's "ridiculously expensive," doesn't mean you pay full price.

13. The belief that you deserve it.In life, no one deserves anything. You don't deserve college. You don't deserve the new car at 16. You don't deserve new clothes. You don't deserve a job just because you have an education. You don't deserve a baby. You don't deserve a sense of humor. You don't deserve anything.

It's people who make things happen, whether it's college grants earned, or parents with silver spoons to give out, or busting your ass for what you have. I've been at the bottom of the barrel where I don't even need to pay taxes because I made so little - but I've thankfully had a support system that can boost my ass off the ground and tell me to "Take care of yourself." But those down times are always counter-weighted with the 'good' times - the times of a great job, great coworkers, and great recommendations when I do move on.

Thanks to Uncle Sam, there'll always be that lull in my career as we dipple-dot around the country and I try to find new work. And it will break my stride and my pride. That's why there's a bar in our house. :) But, I can't give up.

But back to the original point: Yes, I do deserve what I have - because I worked hard, am thankful, and always remember there are those in worse situations in the world.

14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.

You really had to bring that up didn't you.

I made the mistake of trying out a new face wash not knowing it'd become ZIT-CROPOLIS.

Yeah, we have some weeks until Mr. Wookie is home - but that shit better be gone by then.

And unfortunately my "gym shopping" continues as 2 out of the 3 yoga classes were worthwhile (I'm looking for 3 out of 3 classes a week in the post-5pm timeframe) at my local 24HourFitness. And let's not start on the nightmare of parking and the massive dichotomy of clientele. The gym sits on the "Rio Grande" of six-figure incomes and food stamps. So you have Gucci handbags and Mexico-pride backpacks next to the wall in the yoga classes. Not to be snobby - but I don't like either of those types. I don't want to smell tostadas sweating through your pores while you wear your belly chain to class - and I don't want to see you rocked 7 carats in total weight in class either.

15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.Yes and yes. I used to think that you needed to be a VP of Marketing by 30 (or something else high-titled). Then I realized that 'wow,' things don't go that way at all. I still want a Master's in something, just not sure what yet. I feel that everyone is trying to wade out the lack of employment by pursuing additional schooling so now it's just a shit-storm of formally educated people without a dime of real-world experience. So in that sense, I'll keep my Bachelor's and resume - until that time comes when the Hood is calling my name.

And while I don't actually consider Mr. Wookie and I's almost-9 years together as a "solid start" - when in reality it is considering we're still in our 20's and have plenty of living to do - I agree, we have a good start. It's only going to get better, right? Right.

I also have a solid start on: wrinkles, snark, drinking alone, Friday night pizza dates and slumber parties with fellow Junior Officer lifetime partners, cleaning my home before Mr. Wookie's brief return, and scheduling a boob job in my 30's to get the girls back up to Los Angeles' standard.

6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.I definitely have had my moments while in college. There was the time I stood in my underwear on the street corner for honks. Wouldn't you like to know more about that? You would...you know it...

7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age -- and some money set aside to help fund it.Le sigh. I don't want to get old. Not, that I don't want to fulfill my life. Not that at all. I just don't like change. I like the constant. The normal. The wake up at 6:45am, get semi-dressed for work, trudge to work while listening to Ryan's Roses on KissFM, tap away at the keyboard, eat my lunch, work my ass off some more, then speed home like a racer so I can work out/drink wine/email Mr. Wookie on the boat/drunken text Mommy McD with weird questionnaires like, "Zits or diarrhea?"

So while I avoid the potential for old age, I do support my retirement fund with a whopping 12.5% draw each month. It's not much, and there isn't any matching at work since they haven't done that in years. But I've got a nice start - and it'll be fine when I'm of the age for wrinkles but don't have any thanks to Botox. ;)

8. An email address, a voice mailbox, and a bank account -- all of which nobody has access to but you.Yes: a work one, a personal one, and a blog-related one -- all mine

Yes: a personal one and a work one -- all mine.

Yes: a personal one -- all mine. We're believers in "his," "hers," and "joint" bank accounts with percentages drawn to the middle for those joint purchases like groceries, home needs, liquor runs ;), etc. Then there's the personal account - the one where I can buy bras, swimsuits, or anything else I want, because I can.

9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.Who doesn't pad their resume? ;) Or maybe the better question would be, who doesn't beef up their resume? While I worked for a law firm in Virginia, I not only name dropped that it was a Legal 500 - I dropped the gem that it was a Legal 100 law firm. Because what sounds better? It's all about getting the interview, because without that you don't have anything.

10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.Can this be the same person? Because I can remember calling her, while she was about to go into the gym for a work-out, and telling her the sad news about Sweet Pea. And she cancelled her work-out for the morning since I was obviously more important to listen to than NPR on the treadmill. Thanks McD.

My heart goes out to those deployed/detached right now. They're missing the Olympics. So in their honor, I'm sporting my Red, White, and Blue and screaming "Go Amuurrica!" while the cyclists climb and downhill the cute English neighborhoods. Mind the gap.

Thursday, July 26

You only wish you could have had a "five head" since you were young. 1989. I was going on 6 (I think). And you just can't teach the fashion at this level. Hello, Kanye West was in his 20's when he rocked shades like mine. Obviously I'm better for it. And you can see how bone-thin I was growing up. But that's beside the point.

Today is my parents' anniversary. How they haven't murdered each other for the insurance money, I have no idea. And should you know (of) my family. I think you can guess which ones are the Sheriff and Mama Ging. The man on the left is my "Uncle Buck" (seriously, everyone get an Uncle Buck). Then there's a 10-year-old Brother, and a toddling Middle Sister strapped to my Dad's back like buckwheat. Poor Baby Sister didn't quite exist yet. Sorry Baby Sister.

Please, this photo is open to mockery.

I know I have. My brother's haircut for one!

I'm starting to think we need another wedding in the family (Mom, not mine - thanks). How about a renewal? Has anyone every convinced their parents to do one?? It will need to be clarified whether or not my mom will get new jewels also. I think it'd be awesome. We have 3 years until their big 4-0 years together, which I think is an appropriate way to party. Who's with me?? I'll prep my liver. Oh wait, got that covered. Thanks Uncle Sam.

Wednesday, July 25

Hey you, with your flying shades on, how you doing? You enjoying your birthday on the boat? With a 'stache that's hopefully filling in nicely since I've requested you return with it that fateful day you either fly in from the ship, or ride the boat into dock like a 8-second steer buck.

I can't remember the last time we were apart for his birthday? It had to have been years ago since this is our first active Navy squadron with an actual boat to interrupt life. And it was pretty much anti-climactic. I emailed Mr. Wookie this morning, doing my best to song and dance in written word without causing so much of a ruckus that the boat email Nazis would think I was on halucinogenic drugs and thusly ban my communication. We have had emails blocked due to information, but I like to say now we have a decent code dialogue to appeal our needs of his location, etc. That and it's great to be friends with the Commanding Officer's Wife - I know things before Mr. Wookie sometimes does. :)

I will say...I'm starting to get excited about this semi-homecoming, although ditching my work might be hard. Who am I kidding? I even told my boss that she'll have limited notice that, "I'm not coming in for like 2 days. Bye!" I've given her a window of 5 days where he's due home, and a 2-hour notice that I'm finishing my work and clocking out - I've got a 'stached Junior Officer to welcome home with a bottle of bourbon.

It will be nice sharing the cooking responsibility. I'm super excited about that. But let's be honest, there's a birthday dinner to be had...so that'll delay any kitchen mess for at least another day (yay). So yeah, I'll enjoying his hiatus on land...before he leaves me again. But let's not look down already. Let's look up.

Mr. Wookie, you're now 27. You're my age when we moved to California. You're employed at 27. I wasn't (not bitter, no). You've tasted more Scotch that my family combined. You make a mean dirty martini. Your first chateaubriand was legendary. You definitely know how to fly (that's in style with cocktails, when not working). And you're a badass who's paid off that hefty Navy loan acquired at 22 just to survive. Seriously, congrats.

I. love. you. (And hopefully that caterpillar on your face.)

Now come home - I miss drinking with people. I've become accustomed to an ass-imprint on my sofa watching Season 2 (now) of Felicity and I could use more Cheers. Oh, and I promise there will be gifts here. Promise.

Can we T-? yet?? Nope. We've still got time. Oh, well there's always my birthday you can be around for. Right?

Tuesday, July 24

You're probably shaking your head, "Mrs. Wookie, we didn't know your balls were so old!" Haha, dear children, no...I'm not 30, thank goodness. I'm just terrible close for comfort. But because I adore Chambanachik and her tribute to her now-old husband (I kid!), I knew I had to take it considering I'm one crayon away from a salty, sneering, crotchity feminism who needs to loosen up a few threads.

1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to + one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.I'm going to have to agree with Erika that going back to a boyfriend is not worthwhile. You don't see me trying to recycle used tampons, do you? If there were good enough to break up with via text message (yup!), then they're good enough to keep kicked to the curb. Plus, they probably never moved out of their hometown and that's a must for me. You can come back to your home town, but please travel the world and see how others live. It'll make you a better person.

I just wish I could have taught a lesson before Mr. Wookie. There was a guy I dated for a mere dabble of weeks pre-Wookie & Co., who had a junior high-aged sister who was obviously impressionable. Then there was the Dad - having torrid affairs which basically the whole family knew of...including the mom. All I wanted was to raise the sister to know staying with a man when he doesn't respect you isn't love. It's just convenience (because they were load-ed). But that lesson would have resulted with one more feminist in the world, and I think there are plenty right now. :)

2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.Well this discredits my FREE Victorian chair from the Dumpster a la Navy base. ;)

We did invest our hard-earned DITY move money from Virginia to California in our current furniture set that we scored thanks to a Labor Day-sale, so yes, we do have some "fancy pants" furniture in our digs...that will probably be around for a few decades if they can survive Navy moves, our potential new dogs (come Fall of '13?), and the impending arrival of niece and nephew visitations.

Furniture isn't a 'buy every few years so it's modern,' it's a 'terrorize until it's falling apart them throw it on the corner with a "$30" sign after 30 years so a hapless college kid can claim it with money earned from returning beer bottles.'

3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.Considering I have a job, so that means everything I wear on Monday-Friday is 'work appropriate.'

Now about that "man of my dreams" bit. If there were a COD delivery just for Mr. Wookie, I'd make something happen. I think the issue would be not the finding something to wear, but the I need to 1.) Shave my legs, 2.) Get my hair out of the Kourtney Kardashian-esque bun I rock to work because I'm a little lazy, and 3.) Put a little more effort into my make-up. Hello, the man of my dreams is coming in an hour!!

4. A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.Umm...I'm not ashamed of my leg hair...you think I care about purses, suitcases, or umbrellas?

5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.Absolutely. Although my nostalgia for childhood baseball games in the backyard with my siblings is strong. I'd contemplate offspring harder if I could have them for the weekends only, have them be at least 6, and able to drop a free-throw like it's hot - or be able to jump-serve at 10 - lay down a bunt like you're Mickey Mantle (priorities, people).

I did somehow find the ability to grow past my "omg, my forearms are so skinny - like Auschwitz skinny" only to realize that an obesity epidemic is plaguing the nation. I'll take my freakishly skinny forearms...now.

Stay tuned for this multi-part episode. You think I can drink wine AND blog. Pssh. As if!

Monday, July 23

Mr. Wookie. Your birthday is in a few days. And like a good girlfriend, I haven't done anything - because I don't have to. I still have weeks until you're home, so why have gifts lounging around collecting dust? Like I said, we have weeks until you're home...so I'll just put off purchasing anything until we're down to the final countdown.

But seriously, what do you want?

I probably know how you'll come home though. Boat time is special for everyone. The food isn't that great. The guys are busy with multiple flights per day or no-fly days, so it's workworkwork or "Hey, let's go to the gym." So those bigger biceps you're coming home with...I don't mind at all. In fact, I was discussing things I miss the most with you not being here. Yes, dinner company is usually my number #1 request. But I've found a rhythm that I never thought would find this home. I'm doing just fine in the dinner category - so much I made salmon, quinoa, and green beans last night. Who would have thought? A "Fancy Pants" dinner without the boy even being remotely near land. But that does mean I have to step my game up for when he's home. I've been hiding this "I can kinda cook" fact for far too long.

But you're probably wondering what that number #1 thing is since I left the last paragraph without mentioning it. This girl just needs a big hug. You know, those big bear hugs that rival rib-breaking compression? Yup. I need that. But I have weeks to wait until I can get one, so until then I'm going to find a homeless person with a sign that says, "Free hugs."

Seriously - Mr. Wookie - what do you want? Lifetime subscription to Playboy? New videogame? Weekend trip to Canada, eh? A new vehicle? (Please note I'm joking with all these.)

Wednesday, July 18

"I do get internet on the boat (albeit extremely slow).
Your little Victorian chair antics have not gone unnoticed.

Shady and nefarious things are going in [town] by the sound
of it.

…That is all" -- Mr. Wookie

Shit. I thought maybe I had weeks to repurpose the chair and make it beautiful. Well, I still do...but I thought I'd be able to keep it from Mr. Wookie thanks to strict controls. You can't mentioned "bombs" or dates in emails with the boat. But you can read the saucy blog of a Navy attache who dumpster dives Victorian chairs from a post-PCS "This house can't hold all of our stuff" clearing.

Sunday, July 15

So I did something I'm not too proud of. And it was last night. And it involved a dumpster, a duct-taped Victorian chair, and the late night drive of said chair to my garage.

By the time Mr. Wookie even touches a port call to pull up this dear blog, this thing will have transformed from its current status of floral and duct tape to something of beauty.

Have I ever recovered a piece of furniture?

Not in a million years. But hey, with Google...how hard can it be? You need fabric, staples, ApartmentTherapy.com for inspiration, and a dinner date for my two accomplices in the venture.

Oh, and you like my bringing-back-the-90's tied shirt?? I'm bringing "Woah" back. Right after I drum circle in my African print dress (I'm actually rocking a tank and the chambray shirt over it since California nights can get cool).

So as you can tell, I'm rocking this detachment like it's going out of style (literally). I'm trying to keep sanity by killing books by the bag from the library (why couldn't I have been single and leper in college? My grades would have been phenomenal). I did venture out once barhopping with a fellow lady, but we had zero luck in the 'eye candy' department (we just wanted cute boys to look at). So we went back to her place, watched Father of the Bride, and drank cheap wine.

And that 'halfway point' of this detachment? Eh, it's there...upcoming...but I just don't believe it. I feel that someway Uncle Sam has to say, "BAZINGA" and get us. Can there be only one Sheldon??

Tuesday, July 10

Sorry, "pointy things." This blog has no love for things with ammunition. We prefer top naval aviators who can handle that wing span and nerds in the backseat who are excellent at navigating an aerial ballet against potential land-to-air combat, air-to-air defense, and also (maybe) streaming select songs from a Droid phone on "E-2 Radio." They may or may not have the ability to jam enemy (and friendly for that matter) radar with "interference" that resembles 80's Monster rock.

The E-2 Hawkeye is also referred to as "The Hummer." So, yes, you can imagine the shirts in the 80's from Tailhook...and I've seen a few. And I'm not talking a nice, respectable golf shirt. I mean, the 'real shirts.' "Everyone love a Hummer." "Who doesn't love a Hummer?"

The Navy. Where being "PC" is cracking down on tradition. No longer can a call sign be humorous and borderline offensive. It has to pass the strict Commanding Officer test. And with CO's being booted left and right...I kinda get it. But seriously, a Junior Officer callsign isn't going to do you in. So while a few still exist like (call sign -->) "Stuff" Mooren (<--last name), (get it??) it's going away. And it's sad.

Although I am very happy with Mr. Wookie's call sign. I even tried to help JOPA (the Junior Officer Protection Agency) with anti-Mr. Wookie fuel. But they finally came up with one. Six-plus months later. That's what happens when you don't do anything stupid (I'd share - but really, it's for the protection of the "innocent").

Monday, July 9

Let's not throw right into July. No, let's take a breather. I need to make (another -seriously, Mrs. Wookie, will you ever get your shit together this year?) comeback. So let's drool at Mr. Wookie...

Posts are always better with pictures. So I give you the Officer Team of Mr. Wookie's squadron.

Where's Waldo Mr. Wookie???

Let me help you out. He's...in a flight suit. With a name badge. Around 6' tall. And a black t-shirt underneath. With a hint o' boat 'stache. Can you spot him? I have a general idea, but even I can't be certain.

And how do we get these pictures?? Our squadron's CMC is a former combat camera operator. So while the quality isn't here with this pictures since it's on his cellphone, he's got some gems that I get to share with you.

meet me, mrs. wookie

who is mrs wookie?

he's earned ALL CAPS ORDERS back to the great State for Lovers, and I've followed a couple months later. We spent a wonderful 3-plus years along the California coastline expanding our wine collection, expanding our friends, and deepening our family.

he wrapped up sea duty needs with an extended deployment aboard the USS Boat Food Sucks, but now we're prepping for the next best thing in the Navy: shore duty.

once a snarky milblogger, but now a thought-provoking feminist pain in the ass, let's pour a glass of wine and talk about the real issues - like rain water collection in a new home.

Followers

@WookieAndCo

non-official legalese

Blahdy blah…this is all my opinion, powered by good and bad days with the Navy, and the adverse effects on my vodka supply. While we love paychecks courtesy of Uncle Sam, he by-no-way cares whether it causes grey hair, cirrhosis, or panic attacks…blah blah…